


two hearts, four broken pieces (that’s who we were before)

by lightningalwaysreturns



Category: Ginga Eiyuu Densetsu | Legend of the Galactic Heroes
Genre: Background Poly, Background Relationships, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Drinking, Enthusiastic Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Romantic Fluff, maybe?? lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21728554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningalwaysreturns/pseuds/lightningalwaysreturns
Summary: "Yang Wen-li. Come by to play a game of chess with me sometime," Alex said."Sir. I'd be honored," Yang replied, with a salute.And that was kind of where it began.
Relationships: Alex Caselnes/Yang Wenli, Jessica Edwards/Jean Robert Lappe/Yang Wenli, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16





	two hearts, four broken pieces (that’s who we were before)

**Author's Note:**

> another nanowrimo fic!! i couldn't watch that goddamned SCENE at his house in die neue these wo thinking of this so have a good old fashioned pwp~

"Yang Wen-li. Come by to play a game of chess with me sometime," Alex said. 

"Sir. I'd be honored," Yang replied, with a salute. 

And that was kind of where it began. 

"What are you doing here, Cadet Yang?" Alex asked from behind his desk. 

Yang didn't think he'd have to spell it out, but quite some time _had_ passed since Alex had made the offer. Maybe he didn't remember. 

"I'm here to try my hand against you in chess," Yang said, off-hand. He glanced at the 3D chess board in-progress on Alex's desk. "Or am I interrupting?"

Alex shifted his own glance to the chess board and reset it. "Nothing of note, but… I have to ask, why now?"

Yang looked about the office for another chair to drag over, although the only other furniture in the office were two huge sofas sitting across a low, glass table. "Uh, what time better than the present?" he said, turning back to Alex.

He looked vaguely amused. "Yang?"

"Yes?" Guilty, Yang ruffled his hair.

"Why aren't you in class right now? It's the last one of the day, isn't it?"

Yang deflated. "I got kicked out."

"Kicked out?"

"Well, for testing too high on the last exam. Everyone else is reviewing for finals."

"Testing too high." Alex laughed into his hand, head shaking in disbelief—except, he always believed Yang. 

He stood and gestured to the sofa against the wall. A 3D chess game came to life on the table as he and Yang went to sit around it. 

"You can laugh all you want," Yang said, "but I was told to find something productive to do with my time, so…"

"Yeah, yeah, so you came here."

Alex shuffled through set designs until he found his favorite, and Yang selected a randomized one. They were quiet for a moment, studying the board, then Alex made a move. 

It was Yang's turn. He made a move. Alex went next. 

"Surprised you made your way here, Yang," he said. "I had forgotten all about this. It's been a while."

"I like to lie low."

"Do you?"

"At the library, mostly."

"Yang? It's your turn."

"Oh." He made a move.

Alex went, and then it was Yang's turn again. Figuring out what to do in a sea of decisions and possibilities—when so much had yet to happen—seemed nearly impossible. How could Alex make such calls so smoothly?

Yang moved a piece. "So you forgot about me after all this time, huh?"

Alex's laugh was rewarding, soft as it was sharp. "Sorry. Forgive me, okay? Doesn't mean I'm going to let you win, though. You're… not that great at this, are you?"

"Huh?" Yang looked down at the chessboard. As much as he'd been trying to pay attention, Alex had gotten the better of him—most of his pieces had disappeared from the game. "Aw, man. Nothing about this is going the way I planned," he said, sinking back into the couch.

"Not something you're used to?" Alex asked. 

Yang had to look up at that. 

Alex was smiling at him, having a clear laugh. The whole afternoon, since Yang had showed up, he'd been in this kind of mood.

"This is interesting. Aren't you supposed to be some sort of unbeatable tactician?"

"This is three-dimensional chess, not Dagon."

Alex nodded, crossing his arms, and put a hand to his chin. "You are right about that. Although you can't deny the relation between strategy and mind games like chess, right? Come on. You got kicked out of class for being too good at it, and yet, you can't even beat me in _this_ … It's ironic."

"I live on irony," Yang said, and sighed. 

A long silence filled up the room, as warm as the sun through the wide, glass windows. 

Yang cleared his throat and checked his watch. "That's class. I'll let you get back to work, I guess," he said, rising to his feet. 

Alex met him with a handshake across the table. Yang had been prepared to salute when Alex caught him. 

"I wasn't busy. It was a pleasure, Yang."

***

"Yang," Jessica asked him on the same rooftop they'd met on, "what is it you're looking at?"

He didn't have an answer for her.

Nothing about the evening seemed real—set aflame by the sunset and rendered morose by Jessica's question—which left no room for Yang to really react. 

What could he say to that? What _was_ he looking at?

But… he might have had the inkling of an answer—Jean Lapp flashed before his mind's eye, the turning pages of history books under his fingers. A 3D chess piece sliding across the board. 

But that couldn't be it. 

Jessica didn't wait for him forever; that was so like her. 

She turned her eyes toward that fiery sunset, a smile on her face, and said, "Personally, my eyes are on the future."

***

Naturally, when graduation day arrived, it felt as though it had taken forever, but after it passed, everything leading up to it could've been a single memory. 

It was a year—when he was wrestling with his seat belts on the way to El Facil—before Yang thought about 3D chess again. 

He'd been thinking, _Who knew I'd be assigned to front-line duty so soon?_ when his neighbor's phone next to him lit up. 

Curiously, Yang glanced at it. 

The soldier next to him was playing a miniature game version of 3D chess on their phone. The image projected shimmered a bit around the edges, from being held within quaking hands. 

It was probably the first time since graduating Fleet Academy that Yang had even seen a 3D chess board, at least not in passing. The holographic colors gleamed dull in the space of the ship, and the tiny set pieces drew all of his attention. 

He'd last played a few days before graduation—he remembered that—before all his time was spent between Jean and Jessica and first fleet orders. 

Against Alex, of course. 

_I wonder if I should go see him…?_

"Sorry about the glare," the soldier said, noticing Yang's gaze. "Just a nervous habit of mine. Calms me down. I'll put it away if it really bothers you…"

"Ah, no. Please, don't. I'm fine," Yang said. He deserved that for staring. 

"At least it's a short trip, right?"

"Lucky we're getting close to El Facil." 

Except when they arrived on-planet, Yang found the spaceport overrun with the entire populace. Nothing sounded so lucky about any of it. 

Shouts resounded through the entire spaceport from the cries of harried civilians outside. Yang didn't waste any time after the brief getting down to business—shit was all over the news, scaring people and making matters worse, as it was. 

"Who the hell are you?"

"We want to see the person in charge!"

At least Yang could talk now. "That would be me. I've been assigned to oversee the people's evacuation."

***

"Congratulations, Lieutenant."

Yang grinned and bore it. Congratulations befell him at an astounding rate this morning. 

Since his promotion. 

As far as unexpected events, Yang ranked that pretty high. After all, he'd gotten a rear admiral's fleet captured. But he supposed if he was being recognized for what happened, those higher up saw the value in his efforts. 

Well, no use stewing. The only stew he wanted to bother with anymore was the kind served hot on a platter. 

He decided to eat lunch alone, at a restaurant, off-base. 

No one congratulated him with his face stuck in a cubicle, where he spent the next half-hour, which he was grateful for even if it meant writing up an endless litany of reports, until someone tapped his shoulder.

"Uh?" Yang turned. 

An unsmiling soldier handed him a small message with an official seal. "Notice for Lieutenant Yang Wen-li."

"You're kidding," Yang said as he took it. 

"Congratulations, sir." The messenger saluted and marched off. 

Yang was, somehow, unsurprised and perplexed at the same time when he opened the notice to reveal an order for his promotion to Lieutenant Commander. 

The feeling only amplified—in equal proportions—when he got a call to go play hooky from Jean. 

"I'm not a hero," he told him.

That was something he sheerly could not believe. Him? A hero? All he did was some common sense stuff. Try to save lives. Never anything worth calling _heroics_. 

Jean was always so warm toward him. Uncaring about whatever reputation may precede him, be it good or bad. 

"It's good to see you. It takes me back to our Fleet Academy days," Jean said, gently. 

"Me, too." Yang went silent. 

Everything was taking him back there lately. Jean here right now and that soldier's 3D chess game… Alex, again… 

Jean turned around to face the same direction as Yang against the railing, the silence so loud around them that Yang snapped out of his thoughts. 

He asked Jean, "How's Jessica?"

Jean's turn to invert. "I haven't seen her lately. She's in Terneuzen. I heard she's busy teaching music these days."

Those two. They would get nowhere without Yang. Or was it that Yang would get nowhere without them? He couldn't exactly tell anymore, but either way, he loved having them around, even if no one among them who seemed like they knew what they were doing. 

Yang said simply, "Then go see her." He placed his hand hard against Jean's back, to let him know he was there if he needed it, and let it go at that. 

When he left, though, Jean still pulled him in close and kissed him softly in the middle of the hall. 

Yang went back to his desk with a head full of stars. He could at first not even read the message that awaited him at his station when he returned. 

But his head cleared almost as soon as he recognized the sender. 

It was from Rear Admiral Alex Caselnes. 

***

The house was perfect, of course, but it was the speed of coordination that impressed Yang the most when he pulled up on moving day. 

"Getting moved in, Cadet Yang?" Alex asked from the far end of the driveway. 

Yang's heart jumped a bit as he turned. For no fucking reason, Alex was looking really good today. 

"Rear Admiral Caselnes, hi! Yes, thank you for arranging this for me. I'm in your debt."

"I've been looking out for you since your Fleet Academy days—I'm used to it." Alex lifted a black gift bag to offer Yang. "To celebrate your promotion," he said, "and to welcome you to Silverbridge Street."

"Thank you very much," Yang all but mumbled. His face and collar grew hot as he accepted the gift. The weight of it impressed him—Alex knew how to gift-give. It was alcohol.

Alex caught Yang's eye, smiling in that easy way he had. "Since you and I are gonna be neighbors now, fair warning: you'd better brush up on your chess skills a little."

Yang had no defense. He ruffled his hair a bit nervously, which was proof of how Alex was making him suffer, but it wasn't as though Yang had been the one to set this date up. 

He had only accepted an invitation—Alex's invitation. 

And Alex was before him right now, the way he said he'd be, so maybe Yang should've had a little faith in that. 

He lifted his chin. "You wanna come in?"

Alex laughed a bit. "Thought you'd never ask."

***

The alcohol came in a thick brown bottle Yang had never seen before labeled _Dukas_. It tasted strong—like dry ice, going down—but smooth, so it had to be expensive. 

Yang drank first. 

Alex twirled his, without bothering to drink yet, as he suggested Yang adopt a child to fill his huge home. 

"You're telling me I should take on an apprentice?" Yang laughed at the notion, eyes closed. 

"You're laughing, but I mean it. We all have things we can teach. Even somebody like you." Alex paused, his eyes catching the light differently behind his glasses when his smile surfaced. "Although, in your case, I would imagine that you'd have more to learn from your protégé than the other way around," he finished. 

"Ah. Hm…" Yang felt like he'd swallowed his tongue. 

To make matters worse, Alex raised his glass and took a gulp deeper than anything Yang would've dreamed of attempting. 

It had been a long time since he'd seen Alex. He'd forgotten how being in his presence made him feel. 

Yang took a drink from his glass then snuck in another when Alex glanced out the window. 

"Don't worry," Alex said, sounding almost bored. He sighed. "I can take care of most of the paperwork for you if you just sign it when it's ready."

"Wha?"

Alex looked sidelong at Yang. "You seem interested."

"I—I don't know… I am. It sounds like a good idea, but maybe it's the kind of thing I should sleep on a bit?"

Alex smiled again, and faced him. "Oh, of course. Sleep on it. Just know I'll help the rest of the way, too, if you need it."

"Why?" Yang asked, suddenly. 

"What do you mean?" Alex knocked back another impressive drink. He was almost done with his glass.

Yang tried to catch up. 

"I mean, why are you always so nice to me? Well, not _always_ —"

"Oh, I'm not?" Alex laughed, loudly this time, and polished off his glass. Then he refilled it and Yang's, too. 

"You're really only nice to me when you're not bullying me," Yang said. 

"Is that true?" Alex asked. 

Yang shrugged, drinking. "Either way—you go out of your way to help me, and I don't really get why."

"Well, I like you, Yang."

He gave himself credit for not choking, but Yang did have a hard time swallowing after Alex said that. His chest burned. 

"You, uh… oh. I… like you, too… sir," Yang said. Hotter than ever beneath his collar, he began to curse the sweater he wore on top of his shirt. 

Alex shifted back in his seat and drifted closer to Yang. "Maybe don't call me that right now."

They were sitting next to each other on the same side of the table now. Yang was so transfixed by having Alex so close, he couldn't help but lean in closer. 

"Why?" he asked, his throat dry. 

Alex smiled. "You just have to have the answer to everything, don't you? Isn't it obvious? I'm about to kiss you—the last thing I want you to call me right now is 'sir.'"

Yang swallowed. He felt warm down to his shoulders, but also like he couldn't breathe too hard or risk losing the moment. Honestly, despite what he'd said, Alex hadn't moved forward even an inch yet, and Yang didn't like how that felt. 

"Then do it, please," he said, voice falling to a whisper by the end. His hand tightened around the glass he still held on the table. 

"'Please,' he says," Alex mumbled. 

Yang was about to give up when Alex brought his hand up to the side of Yang's neck. The look in his eyes changed from a tease to something warmer. 

At first, Yang thought he would say more, but then they were kissing. It started slowly, lips tasting their first touch, and trusting the tactility of darkness behind closed eyes. Yang thought he would melt. Not that he'd mind… 

How was kissing Alex so different from kissing anyone else? Not even Jean or Jessica could make him feel so thoroughly tender-hearted. So… cared for. 

He made the admission shyly to himself—Alex made him, in such a unique way, so happy. 

"What's wrong?" Alex asked.

Yang opened his eyes. "Me? I'm great, why?"

This time, the smile that Alex answered with came closer to a smirk. "I couldn't tell. You froze up, so I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Yang bit at his lip. "Do it again. I'll be better this time."

That was right—he just had to stop thinking so damn much. 

Alex nodded, not smirking anymore. "You gonna stay here with me?" he asked softly. 

Yang nodded back, and shifted forward to show it—his lips found Alex's fast, drew him in closer. Ever nearer. 

Alex caught himself from falling into Yang, though that said nothing of his fingers sliding through Yang's hair. Like he wanted to get even closer but wouldn't go any further, for some reason. 

Oh, no. Yang couldn't have that. He'd finally gotten this far. 

"Come on. I'm here. See?" Yang pushed forward. 

Alex couldn't respond—verbally, anyway—with Yang halfway in his lap. So he opened his mouth instead: an invitation in. 

Yang's hands were on Alex's legs now. He tightened his grip on each one as he sighed and slipped his tongue against Alex's. 

Damn, his head felt so light. 

Everything about Alex drew him in. The way he kissed, even the way he _breathed_.

Yang had probably wanted to do this for _some_ time—

Alex pulled back.

"What?" Yang said. "I liked that."

Alex shook his head, eyes dropping under one of his hands. "The wounds you deal me."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm glad you were enjoying yourself, but I think a change of venue might be in order if we plan to continue." He gestured at the dining room chairs they sat in. "These aren't the _most_ comfortable."

"Oh. You're right." Yang tried to think straight for a bit. 

Seeing that, Alex raised his eyebrows and leaned forward to press his lips to the corner of Yang's mouth. When he sat back up again, his eyes glittered. 

"So, what do you think?"

Yang nodded. "We can finish drinking later."

***

Yang's bedroom was upstairs. Even though neither of them had too much of a reason to be overly familiar with the path there, it seemed like Alex led Yang straight to it—by the hand, which stole all of Yang's attention. 

Alex's hand was hot in his. Cradling it. Yang couldn't think of anything else. 

"Whoa, there. I'm not going anywhere," Alex said suddenly. 

Yang snapped to reality. They were standing in the bedroom, by the edge of the bed, and he still had his hand in Alex's. 

"Well, you don't have to let go, but…" Alex said. His eyes traced over Yang's face from behind his glasses in a way that made Yang weak inside. "I kind of didn't expect this side of you."

Yang's heart hammered in his throat. "Sorry, I—"

"No, it's okay." Alex lifted their intertwined fingers until they met his lips, without taking his eyes off Yang's. "You don't have to apologize. Just figuring you out a little."

Yang closed his eyes and drifted to a place somewhere that he hadn't dreamed of in over a decade. And there, Alex's hand grounded him, saw him through. He wanted to hold this hand all night. 

Alex's body brushed up against Yang's; the next time he spoke, it was into Yang's ear. "Like I said, I'm not going anywhere…"

Yang let out a breath, which told him how close Alex had come to him. He shuddered to think about it but kept his eyes closed, for now. 

"Lay me down," he said. 

A sound he'd never heard Alex make before answered him. "As you wish."

He swept his free hand down the back of Yang's thigh, drawing it around his waist so they held on to each other as Alex lowered Yang to the mattress. 

When their bodies met, Yang couldn't help but let out a small laugh, even as he grabbed on tighter to Alex above him. Before Alex had the chance to back up—or say anything—Yang pulled him closer. Their noses almost touched. 

"Fine, I'm fine, I'm right here with you," Yang said again. An echo of his earlier assurance. 

Alex seemed to need it as much as he did, sometimes. Right now, for instance. 

He smoothed a hand over Alex's head, stroking lightly through brown hair, and Alex leaned right into it, eyes closed in wanting. Yang's mouth fell open just a bit as he did it again. 

"Like a cat," he mumbled. 

Alex opened his eyes to stare down at Yang. "You can do that some more," he said, then ducked down closer to press their lips together. 

Yang's heart soared right up into his head. The weight of Alex's body kept him pinned in place, but not so much that he couldn't move, and as they shifted against each other, chasing one another, his hands wandered—through hair, under clothes and, finally, over skin. Alex was burning hot beneath his layers. Yang gasped a little when his fingers made contact. 

With a small, low laugh, Alex took his opportunity and gave his tongue to Yang's open mouth. 

It felt warm and tasted something like the alcohol they'd shared earlier. To be honest, until then, Yang had forgotten all about it. He pressed his hands into Alex's back, returning the smooth back and forth, taking in every taste and sensation he could slide his tongue across. 

Suddenly, and at the same time, Alex let out a soft groan and pushed his hips down into Yang's. Yang, feeling him through their clothes, moaned right into Alex's mouth. They were a mess. 

It wasn't long before Yang lost his patience and rucked up Alex's shirt, to try and get him out of it. 

Alex laughed, finally pulling away with a last pass of his tongue over Yang's. Then he reached back and slipped out of whatever layers stood between them. Resettling, he waited, sitting still above Yang, who reached up to trace the arm of his glasses. 

"You gonna stay like that?" Alex asked gently. His eyes were so attentive, so—sweet.

Yang brushed the outside of his ear, scratched at his hair some more. "No. Help me."

" _Yeah_ ," Alex said. 

Yang almost teased him for such an absentminded answer, but Alex was _on him_ before he could speak—much less think—any further than that. 

Alex's hands found Yang's belt buckle and tugged. "And this?"

"Uh huh," Yang replied. The _eloquence_ in the room tonight…

He raised his hips, brushing against Alex's body as he did, and they both paused at the touch. Alex recovered first, with busy hands, pulling Yang's long legs free from his pants. 

Alex's eyes searched down his body, rested at his bulge. Yang felt his face go hot under that concerted focus; he squirmed a little bit when Alex shifted down to heft Yang's thighs over his shoulders. 

"You okay, Yang?" he asked in a strange tone.

Yang couldn't place it. But—to be honest—he was having a hard time staying altogether sane, with Alex's mouth right between his legs and both hands teasing at the waistband of his briefs. 

He just nodded, fingers balled into the sheets at his sides. 

Suddenly, his body went stiff as Alex's lips warmed around him from the other side of clothing. His dick jerked at the attention. He unconsciously arched into it, the wetness and heat. Alex's breath drowned him in sensation. 

"Can I kiss you here?" Alex asked. His fingers rested against Yang's hips. 

Yang didn't really know what else to say. " _Please_."

He _felt_ Alex's small, tortuous laugh spread over the length of him, and then, slowly, Alex exposed the last of him until he lay naked on the edge of the bed. 

He threw an arm across his eyes so he wouldn't be tempted to watch Alex lean up and press his lips—just as promised—to the tip of Yang's cock. 

He sighed, feeling it. 

Alex hummed and started to suck at it until the whole, wet head was in his mouth. It pulsed hot on his tongue; he immediately swallowed, inched his throat further down. Heat crept in between them. 

Alex kept making these soft, dragged out, groaning sounds that echoed through Yang's body, all the while sucking him deeper and deeper until he couldn't take any more. Yang's whole body tensed up from feeling so _much_ , so _taken_. 

"Alex," he gasped into the room, " _Alex_ —"

Almost immediately, he wished he hadn't, because Alex withdrew from around him to answer. 

"Cum in my mouth, Yang," Alex said. Simple and plain as day before swallowing his cock down as far as he could go. 

" _Oh_." Yang was finished after that. The tension in his body frayed to pieces and he came, just as requested, into Alex's waiting mouth. 

His nerves glowed with release in the aftermath, but Alex wasn't quite through with him yet. 

"Come on," Alex said. "Get on the bed."

While Yang got comfortable, Alex stripped the remainder of his own clothes off so he stood as naked as Yang was, who lay flush faced in the center of the mattress. They looked at each other for a short, studious while. 

"Are you just gonna stand there?" Yang asked eventually. He felt more exposed than anything else. 

Alex climbed onto the bed, next to Yang. "Maybe. Maybe not. You look good," he said.

"What's that even mean?" Yang covered his face with his hands. 

Alex caught one and kissed it, moving it away. "It _means_ you're full of surprises. You always catch me off-guard, even when we're like this. I can't keep my hands off you."

"That's surprising for you?" Yang wanted to hide his face again, but Alex wouldn't stop holding—cradling—his hand. Pressing it to his cheek. His lips. Fixated, Yang followed with his eyes. 

"That's not what I find surprising at all," said Alex, between a press of his lips. "Now, you want to touch me?"

Yang wrapped his hand around Alex's, excited by the idea. The words dried up and died in his throat, but he nodded while gazing straight in Alex's eyes and moved closer so that he could. He leaned over Alex, who still held his hand, a sort of switch of how they'd been earlier. 

"I'm all yours," Alex said. His voice was light and teasing, but his eyes betrayed a deep, deep desire. 

Yang couldn't contain himself. "You shouldn't say that so easily. I might be inclined to believe you."

Alex released Yang's hand to reach up and touch his face, bring it ever closer to his own. "Why don't you?"

Since Yang's hand was now free, he slipped it down across the front of Alex's body, grabbing him hard when fingers found wet, waiting skin. 

Alex gasped a little, still with his eyes pinned on Yang. 

"Who says I don't?" Yang answered. He started to stroke Alex slowly as he did, and his voice came out hushed and hoarse. 

Alex rolled his hips up to meet the grip of Yang's hand. "That's better," he said, with the _cutest_ fucking smile. 

Yang didn't even know if he was talking about the sex or the conversation—and he didn't know which one he _wanted_ it to be—but he could only manage to nod in return, anyway, before leaning down to press his mouth to Alex's again. He loved kissing Alex, and he loved being _able_ to kiss Alex. And Alex was _good_ at it. Every time their lips or tongue touched, Yang's head ascended right into the clouds; his heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. 

Hopefully, tonight would be enough to get this all out of his system because… well, because—

" _Fuck_. Yang," Alex said, into Yang's ear, holding onto him with both arms now. "That's damn good." He rose to meet every one of Yang's strokes, even as they got faster, until he was left all but gasping.

"Let me see." Yang sat up a bit as Alex's arms went limp, curving up above him. "Yeah," he said. " _That's_ better, isn't it?"

Alex made a deep groan in the back of his throat and shut his eyes. At first, Yang thought he would retort or rebuff further, but then he turned his head to the side and shuddered, going still even while Yang worked over his dick. And so Yang realized—Alex wasn't complaining, he was just _close_. 

"Want me to keep going?" Yang asked, quietly. He wanted to bury his face in Alex's long, exposed neck. 

Alex didn't say anything, only nodded— _fervently_ —for Yang to continue. Despite the fact that he had gone pretty much rigid all over except his chest, which tilted up and down with every rapid breath he took. His fingers balled into fists above his head. 

Goddamn. Yang wasn't sure he would survive the night with this man. His body was already trying to answer the salacious sounds in the bedroom around him even though he had _just_ had Alex's mouth on his cock. No way was he _that_ greedy—or hot-blooded. 

They didn't say much after that. Yang coaxed a few more shudders out of Alex before he came, reaching out for the first thing he could grab (which turned out to be Yang's shoulder). He held on for dear life as Yang pumped his cock for every little bit. They were sticky with it by the time either of them caught their breath. 

Yang decided to clean his hand by licking it off like some kind of cum-hungry idiot, but he _also_ kind of couldn't help it. Alex had said— _all yours_.

"Can't believe you." Alex laughed, low and short. 

Yang glanced up, but before he could say anything, Alex reached a hand out to touch his face. 

"You're cute, you know that?"

Yang's whole body went flush. "Can't believe _you_."

"Let's get cleaned up, huh?"

They probably should have. Yang nodded and helped Alex out of bed. 

In the bathroom, he had to ask, "Are you going back home yet?"

Alex looked up from where he was wiping his hands off on a towel. His face and tone were neutral. "Do I have to?"

"No, I just…" Yang shrugged then ruffled his hair a bit. "Kinda expected it, I guess."

"Really? I 'kinda expected' to stay." After adjusting his glasses, Alex curled his fingers around Yang's. 

It was so casual a thing, like they had done it a million times before—and would do it again a million times more. Yang remembered wanting to hold onto his hand all the time, earlier in the night. He squeezed it even tighter, as they returned to bed together. 

"Are you tired?" Alex asked quietly, facing Yang. 

"Deliriously so."

He laughed. "Then I guess we're going to sleep now, aren't we?"

Yang stifled a yawn against the back of his free hand. "You don't have anywhere you need to be?" he asked. Just in case—he didn't _know_ …

"Stop worrying so much. The only place I need to be is where I want, and right now, that's with you. Is that okay? I really want to sleep with you, Yang."

 _Shit_. This guy was kind of incredible. Even if he was a little blunt about it. 

Yang just nodded, cuddled in closer to him, and they found a way to fit their bodies together under the sheets. 

"Goodnight, then," said Alex.

With a gulp to swallow a sudden knot of nerves, Yang found himself sharing a long, slow kiss with Alex that just about made him dizzy. He shivered from it. Alex answered by taking their embrace deeper—but only for a moment.

A few seconds later, Yang had to withdraw simply to bury his head in his pillow. "Goodnight to you, too, Alex," he mumbled, muffled. 

Alex's gentle laugh followed him. "Sorry. See you in the morning."

What a dangerous saying—Yang could get damn used to it. 

"Yeah."

And that was where it _really_ began.


End file.
